Interim
by 2amWritersClub
Summary: Morgan has a long night at the hospital as he stays with Reid in the aftermath of Amplification. Does he really do it alone?


I do not own the characters of Criminal Minds, they belong to CBS, and it would be laughable to assume any profit is being made from this work of fiction.

Interim

The back of Reid's hand connected with a loud clang against the metal of the bed rail. He wanted to shout out, but instead, afraid of what might come out of his mouth, he gritted his teeth and pressed his head into the pillow until the burning sensation in his chest subsided. He had been trying to keep his body still during each wave of discomfort, but it was impossible, his arms and legs jerking in response to the pain, his fingers gripping anything they could find, the pillows, twisted sheets, and, rather dangerously, the IV line currently plumbed, stingingly, into the back of his hand.

Someone was speaking to him and there were hands everywhere, on his arms, more on his legs. He wanted them gone. They were making him hot and he could feel an almost constant trickle of perspiration running down his back, making the sheets twist damply beneath him. One of the hands moved and relocated to his forehead. It was cool. Reid opened his eyes to find Dr Kimura standing by his bed.

'Dr Reid? Dr Reid, look at me.' She smiled as Reid managed to focus on her. 'Dr Reid, the only thing I can do at this stage is _try_ to make you more comfortable. I really should start you on morphine like the others. You have to understand, you can't go on like this. The pain alone will get too much.'

Reid screwed his eyes shut. Even though his head burned and he couldn't get his thoughts in order he was sure he'd already told her, _no narcotics_, when they were in the lab, right after he'd spoken to Garcia. He couldn't have them. He couldn't fight the addiction again. He opened his eyes. He had to make her understand. He twisted his head, rubbing his cheek against the pillow to dislodge the oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth. One of the hands disappeared from his arm and he took the opportunity to haul at the plastic cup dispensing the fine mist of gas. Dr Kimura grasped his fingers firmly and leaned over him, her eyes fixing his.

'You need to leave the mask on Dr Reid. ' She said re-adjusting it over his face only for him to tug it aside again.

'So drips! So ... sso.' Reid gasped out the word salad and gazed imploringly at Dr Kimura as another wave of pain hit him squarely in the chest. His hand flailed to the side, brushing the surface of the over-bed table and upturning an emesis basin, sending it skittling away, leaving a trail of frothy pink sputum in its wake.

'Shh. It's ok, try to relax.' Dr Kimura said. 'I'll hold off as long as I can, but we have to do something. You're going to hurt yourself.'

Dr Kimura turned to one of her team of nurses, 'Soft restraints. And make another call to the lab. I need an update on the contents of that inhaler.'

The worst of the pain subsided giving Reid a moment to regain some lucidity. He felt the restraining hands loosen momentarily and then return. This time he could feel them strapping something wide around his wrists. His arms were gently straightened by his sides and he felt the straps tightening as they were fixed to the bed. Reid looked at Dr Kimura and nodded. She gave him a tense smile back as she brushed a couple of strands of damp hair from his face.

Reid wished he could say thank you.

* * *

Derek Morgan was pissed, at what he wasn't quite sure but it didn't really matter. He just knew how he felt and how he felt was pissed. For a brief moment he thought he was pissed at Garcia. Why had she told him about Reid when she must have known that he'd be trapped between what he needed to do and what his gut wanted him to do? What the hell did she think she was going to achieve?

The thought was only fleeting though before his anger settled on Hotch. He was _definitely_ pissed at Hotch and his slave to duty, by the book attitude. How could the man have been so dismissive about his subordinates, no, his _friends'_ predicament, with all his, _'he is with the people who can take care of him right now' _bull? How did he not want to tear-ass out of that bullpen and leave a blazing trail of lights and sirens all the way to the emergency room? How?

Morgan rubbed the back of his neck and groaned. He wasn't really angry and he knew it. He wasn't angry at Garcia any more than he was angry at Hotch or Rossi for that matter, who'd probably have been more animated if he'd discovered that his dry cleaning had been lost than he was when he found out that Reid's condition had deteriorated.

He wasn't angry. He was afraid, and Derek Morgan didn't do afraid.

He jabbed the elevator button and closed his eyes momentarily when the car arrived more quickly than he'd hoped. Two nurses already inside the car held the door for him.

'Paediatrics or ICU?' one of them said.

Morgan swallowed around the lump in his throat.

'ICU?' She gestured at the button.

Derek nodded, wishing he could find his voice to speak.

* * *

The first person Morgan saw when he stepped out of the elevator and into the ICU was Dr Kimura. She was leaning against the nurses' station, her delicate fingers massaging her temple, a chart clamped beneath her arm.

Morgan's breath hitched. All he had wanted to do for the past five hours was to get to Reid's side as fast as possible and now he was stalling, his feet slowing to a halt. Dr Kimura looked so beaten at that moment that Morgan was convinced that he was too late, that Reid had succumbed to the anthrax and Kimura was a phone call away from dropping a proverbial bomb on the team. Or not. Maybe she'd just had the same hellish day that he'd had.

It made Morgan think of a story Reid had told him when they first met. No, that was wrong, it wasn't a story and Reid had been annoyed when Morgan had referred to it as such. He had rather pompously corrected him, telling him that it was a _thought experiment_ in quantum mechanics. It was something to do with a cat in a box and at this exact moment Reid was that stupid cat in that stupid box and until Morgan looked into Reid's room he was as healthy as Morgan wanted him to be.

Only Morgan knew that Reid couldn't be anywhere close to healthy after breathing in fistfuls of that damned powder, standing there, wide eyed, whilst it blew around the room with Morgan banging on the plexi-glass door. Time was up anyway. Reid the Cat was dead or alive. Dr Kimura had spotted him taking root in the hallway and was heading his way, pushing up the sleeves of her lab coat, ready to take the lid off the box.

* * *

Reid wasn't dead. He was just making Kimura jump through hoops. Morgan wished he could satisfy her and direct her to give his friend the drugs he needed, but he wouldn't.

'He is in a mass amount of pain Agent Morgan.' Dr Kimura stressed.

'I hear what you're saying, but I can't go against his wishes.'

Morgan wanted to tell her to load up a needle with morphine and empty it into Reid as fast as possible but he couldn't. Even standing at the door to Reid's room watching him twist against the restraints, hearing him gasp and gurgle in his throat, he couldn't. It would be like giving up, admitting that he wasn't going to survive and saying '_what harm would a few narcotics do at this stage anyway'?_ As long as they held off they were thinking of a future, a future that Reid _would_ be taking part in.

'He trusts me.' Morgan said. He looked at Dr Kimura closely and watched her expression soften.

'Alright. Could you stay with him then? I think it would help him just to have someone close and I have the other patients.' She looked defeated.

'I'm not going anywhere.' Morgan said quietly, noting how pained Dr Kimura's eyes had become.

'I can't even sedate him.' She continued. 'With the respiratory distress it could depress his breathing further. He wouldn't survive intubation at this point.' She looked genuinely upset.

Morgan laid his hand on her shoulder. 'I know that you're doing all you can doctor. What we need is that antidote. For all your patients.'

* * *

Morgan sat on the edge of the cheap plastic chair next to Reid's bed and watched his friend's breath and blood mist up his oxygen mask. Reid's eyes were screwed shut and his hands jerked against the restraints pinning him to the bed. Morgan gently took hold of the fluttering fingers and pressed them flat between his palms. After a moment Reid's breaths began to even out. They remained shallow but had lost the desperate hauls behind them. Reid's face relaxed a little and his eyes slid open.

'Hey kid.' Morgan squeezed Reid's hand.

Reid's face flooded with happiness and he let out a small cry of relief. He twisted his head and rubbed his face on the pillow to dislodge the mask again. It left a trail of blood on his cheek that forced Morgan to take a deep breath to steady his stomach. Reid opened his mouth, shut it and then frowned.

'Just relax kid, we got Brown and the lab will have the anti ...' Morgan started but was cut off when Reid opened his mouth again.

'Sun ...' He shook his head and groaned in frustration, his eyes darting, briefly settling on the nurses' station and Dr Kimura.

'Sunshine ... ends.' He untangled his hand from Morgan's and clenched his fist, digging it into his thigh as he gasped in pain. Morgan leaned forward and covered his fist with his hand.

'Reid, look at me. I am right here and I am staying here and I know you're hurting and you know I'd do anything to stop that _but_ I will _not_ allow anyone to give you any narcotics, do you hear me? I will not allow anyone to drop you back into the middle of that battlefield man. This is not an end game situation here Reid, not today. Not today.'

Morgan gently repositioned the mask as Reid gave a weak smile. Closing his eyes again Reid started to cry, the tears running wild into his tangled hair before disappearing into the damp pillow beneath his head.

* * *

Morgan had cut his teeth in the Chicago PD and after that the Bomb Squad. Both these experiences had brought him close to some gruesome sights and even then nothing, _nothing_ could beat what he had seen with the BAU but somehow his stomach was still naive enough to turn when Dr Kimura drew back Reid's gown in order to clean and dress a sticky black lesion that was growing on his chest. Morgan had noticed the bandage on the back of Reid's left hand when he had first arrived and he'd asked Dr Kimura if it was a lesion. It wasn't. It was a small cut around which the flesh had started to necrotise because of the anthrax and although this sounded nasty Morgan had been relieved that he wasn't faced with a living, breathing version of what Garcia had displayed on her monitors for most of the day. From that moment he'd forgotten about that particular side effect and assumed that Reid had dodged that bullet.

Kimura turning up with a kidney basin balanced on a tray dispensing gauze, dressings and surgical tweezers put him straight.

Reid's pain level seemed to have dropped but Morgan knew that it was because he was losing consciousness more and he whimpered and pulled weakly at the restraints on his wrists while Kimura peeled back a heavy wad of wet, blood stained gauze and dropped it into the basin.

Morgan had moved back to the doorway when another nurse had arrived with a basin and wash cloth. He leaned against the doorframe and pressed his knuckles to his lips. He controlled his breathing carefully, measured it in and out. Not too little to feel faint and not too much to hyperventilate.

'It's always harder to watch when it's someone close to you.'

_Hotch._

'I wasn't sure you were coming.' Morgan said.

'I told the others to go home. That I'd keep them informed. Garcia wasn't happy. Neither was Emily.' Hotch replied. 'How is he?'

'Bad. It hurts and he doesn't want any drugs.' Morgan said. 'Dr Kimura has Nichols' inhaler in the lab. They have to test the contents before they can synthesise the antidote.'

'How long do they think it will take?' Hotch said, wincing as Reid cried out under Kimura's ministrations.

Morgan started toward the bed and then stopped as Reid quietened. 'However long is too long.'

Hotch stepped further into the room his eyes raking the bed. 'Restraints?' He said, looking back at Morgan.

'He was in pain and ... ' 'Kimura said he pulled his IV out. He didn't really know what he was doing.' Morgan said.

Hotch shrugged out of his jacket and started to loosen his tie. 'Go to the lounge and get coffee. Stay there while you drink it.' Hotch ordered. 'I'll stay with him while you do.'

Morgan looked at Reid. Dr Kimura was finishing up and as she walked by the sight and smell of the dressings she had removed made Morgan's stomach lurch.

* * *

Hotch dropped his jacket onto the chair by the bed, removed his cufflinks and rolled his sleeves up.

'May I do that?' He asked the nurse who was pressing the cool wash cloth to Reid's forehead. She nodded, handing Hotch the cloth as she moved to check Reid's vitals.

'Thank you.' Hotch said.

'No problem. I'll be right outside if you need anything.'

Hotch dipped the cloth back into the cool water, ringing it out until it was nearly desiccated before pressing it gently to Reid's temple. Moving the cloth slowly he bathed Reid's' face, drawing it down his cheek, easing it past the elastic straps of the oxygen mask and running it slowly over his jaw line. Hotch dipped the cloth back in to the water, wringing it out again and again, silently repeating the bathing as if it were a ritual long after Morgan had returned from his coffee break.

* * *

An hour later and Reid was more lucid. Morgan had initially been happier to see the kid alert but after listening to his shallow panting breaths and talking him through two bouts of naked pain over the last twenty minutes he was ready for him to lose consciousness again. For a brief moment he thought of Dr Kimura and her offers of morphine but the feel of Reid's fingers tightening over his, fighting a third wave of agony, made him ashamed of the momentary lapse in his resolve. He gave himself a shake and fixed his gaze onto Reid's.

'Reid, you still with us?' Morgan asked.

Reid's eyes swam lazily for a moment but then snapped back to focus on Morgan and he nodded. His eyes slid away from Morgan's face and toward the door. Morgan turned as Reid gave a small huff of surprise.

Dr Kimura was talking to Rossi in the hallway outside Reid's room. Hotch went out to them while Morgan turned back to Reid.

'Rossi came to visit! You are so going to owe him for this kid, he'll never let you forget it. He could be doing a book signing now or instructing his maid on how to press him monogrammed shirts.' Morgan laughed a little as Reid made an attempt to roll his eyes.

'I heard that Agent Morgan.' Rossi said. 'Anyway, I come bearing antidotes, or rather Dr Kimura comes bearing antidotes.' He said.

Dr Kimura moved to the IV stand and fixed a new bag to the hook before switching the tubes in the port. She leaned over Reid and laid her hand on his shoulder.

'You should start to feel an improvement soon Dr Reid. We've administered this to three of the other patients and they've all started to show immediate signs of recovery. You and Abby are the last on my rounds so you have a little catching up to do. 'She said gently. 'Rest now. You did your job, now let the cure do its job.'

She smiled across to the three agents.

'He needs sleep.' She said. 'Nurse Schaeffer here will be charting his stats constantly for the next hour and if he responds like the others we should see some pretty rapid improvements.'

'Thanks Dr.' Rossi said. He turned to Hotch and Morgan. 'Why don't you let this young lady here do her job for the next hour and go and get a bite to eat. You look like you need it Derek and if I know you at all Aaron I'd bet that you haven't eaten a thing since dinner yesterday.'

Morgan glanced at Reid, his view obscured by the nurse who was replacing his oxygen mask with a nasal canula.

Rossi sighed. 'I won't leave his side.' He said.

Morgan nodded and was about to leave for the cafeteria when Rossi held him back.

'You know Derek, I never was one for show and tell, even as a kid. Don't mistake my reticence for a lack of ... care, shall we say.'

Morgan studied Rossi for a moment, nodded and turned to follow Hotch to the elevator.

Rossi sat in the chair that Hotch had just vacated, smoothed the creases from his tailored pant leg and pulled a small Barnes and Noble bag from his inside jacket pocket. He slid a book out from the bag, opened it and began to read.

'_His name was Gaal Dornick and he was just a country boy who had never seen Trantor before. That is, not in real life. He had seen it many times on the hyper-video and occasionally on tremendous three-dimensional newscasts...' _Rossi paused as Reid coughed lightly.

Reid's finger fluttered against the blankets. 'Dad?' He said breathlessly.

Rossi raised an eyebrow. 'I'll put that down to the aphasia kid.' He then looked across at the young blonde who was busy scribbling on Reid's chart.

'Obviously I'm way too young to be his father.' Rossi smirked and carried on reading.

* * *

Morgan had heart burn from bolting his food so he could get back to Reid. It made no difference though as Hotch ate frustratingly slowly and Mrs Morgan has instilled enough manners in her baby boy that he knew it wouldn't be polite to leave Hotch on his own in the half deserted cafeteria.

They'd been gone over an hour and when they got back to the ICU floor Dr Kimura smiled broadly at them.

'He's improving. They all are.' She said. 'Why don't you all go home, get some sleep and then come back in the morning.'

'I'll stay.' Morgan said. 'I promised him I wouldn't leave.' He looked at Hotch defiantly. Hotch nodded.

'I'll get Rossi and we'll let the others know that they can come by tomorrow.' Hotch said.

'Not for too long. He'll still need rest, lots of it and he'll need to stick to a regimen of PT for some time to come.' Dr Kimura said as she walked Hotch and Rossi down the hall to the elevator.

Morgan wearily trudged back into Reid's room. He was sleeping, his chest rising and falling gently, hitching every now and then. As he sat back in the uncomfortable chair Morgan felt every ounce of energy drain from his body, the inevitable adrenaline crash he'd been expecting. Leaning forward he brushed his fingers over the back of Reid's hand.

'You wanna hear a joke kid? You do, huh. Skinny guy walks into a lab full of Anthrax.' Morgan scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, rubbing away the tears that threatened to fall. 'Yeah, I know. You already heard it and it wasn't funny. It wasn't funny at all kid.'

Derek leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes to sleep.

* * *

The sounds of movement in the room woke Morgan to a new day and a vicious kink in his neck. Blinking he saw a nurse removing the restraints from Reid's wrists.

'Good morning. You look like you spent the night in a plastic chair.' She smiled at him.

'I guess I could look better.' Morgan groaned as the nurse laughed.

'How's he doing.' Morgan gestured to Reid who looked to be sleeping comfortably.

'Good. All his vitals are up and his chest sounds a little clearer. Can I get you anything?'

'I need coffee and food.' Derek smiled as he rubbed his neck.

'Coffee I can do.' The nurse replied. 'But the closest thing I can score to food would be Jell-O and even then we only have red.'

Morgan laughed. 'Red Jell-O would be perfect sweetheart, just perfect.

End

**AN - **

The quantum mechanics thought process Reid told Morgan about is Schrodingers Cat.

Rossi's quotation is from the Foundation Trilogy, Part One – Isaac Asimov.


End file.
